Fire Hazard
by amberpire
Summary: You'll burn her, so you can't let her touch you. ;Sam/Carly;


_**"All flammable fuels must be handled responsibly. Like gasoline and natural gas, hydrogen is flammable and can behave dangerously under specific conditions. Hydrogen can be handled safely when simple guidelines are observed and the user has an understanding of its behavior."**_

Fire Hazard

You never really pictured yourself as likeable. You spend every single waking moment with yourself; every second of every day for sixteen fucking years and most of the time only the negative things are shown to you. You can't possibly picture yourself being adored by someone else, being liked, being loved. It always seems just natural when you care for another person, because they're just awesome. They're everything you're not. Everything you can't be.

But you? No. You deemed yourself untouchable. Unusable. Unsuitable. Just like they don't use hydrogen in balloons anymore. People tried it out, and then the Hindenburg happened. Hydrogen is too testy. It isn't safe enough. It explodes. You'll explode. Anywhere close to a spark and you'll ignite and burn everything in your path.

You'll burn her. So you can't let her touch you.

--

"Can I come over after school today?" Carly Shay, the smell of sweet, sweet fruit, is leaning into you, as if there isn't a hundred kids filing pass you on their way to the last hour of the day, as if Carly doesn't care that there are already rumors about you two spreading.

She doesn't even seem to care that you're ruining her reputation.

"No," you tell her and lean away from her scent because you know if you smell it too long you'll only want to drown in it, but by drowning you'll be scorching her to a crisp and you don't think you could ever live with yourself if you ever hurt Carly. You're hydrogen and you'll hurt her. She's the unsuspecting scientist who doesn't quite understand what a flammable element you are and she's putting all of her trust in you and that trust is a lit match.

"But I haven't been over in ages." She frowns at you but you only see it out of the corner of your eye because you're pretending to search for something in your locker. "Sam? What's wrong with you?"

And you don't really know what you were thinking. It's not like you could hide anything from Carly for more than a few minutes; the girl could read you like a children's book. You shut the locker door and dare a glance into her melted chocolate eyes and shake your head. "I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Sam, stop it."

"I just don't want you to come over." You say this with warning because you both know exactly what will happen if she comes over. The memory of a few weeks ago is still burning in your head when Carly leaned over and kissed you smack on the mouth out of nowhere.

And you hate that you almost kissed her back, that you almost allowed yourself to like it.

It's bad enough that Carly is your best friend. That's already too much. You can't hurt her by any other degree.

"Sam." She knows you're lying and it sucks that she just can't be hurt like a normal person would, that she can't just feel rejected and limp away and find somebody else. She knows who you are and everything about you and it's silly to try and hide from her.

"Carly-"

"Is this about a few weeks ago? I'm sorry. I just ... I thought you ..."

"You thought wrong, Carls." You know you're just being stupid and mean now but Carly isn't affected. She knows you're trying to hide.

"Sam, I don't know what you're afraid of."

And you look at her and say, "You're the one who should be scared, Carly." And then you turn and head down the hall.

And you wish you really were hydrogen, so you could just float away.

--

Friday. You don't say a word on the car ride from school and your mother doesn't even notice your silence as she's chattering to her newest boyfriend on her cell phone and as soon as you get home you throw the lock on your door and crawl into the warmth and safety of your bed only to discover it's not the safe haven you thought it was because this is where Carly kissed you.

You can still kind of feel her there, laughing with you about some iCarly skit you two were planning when she suddenly closed the distance between you and her lips met yours. Rose petals.

And you just kind of laid there like a wooden doll, not knowing what to do even though you had been picturing this moment for years and years and it was at that moment when you realized that it would be selfish and wrong to kiss her back. It would be just plain mean to try and indulge her this way. It was at that moment when you realized you were hydrogen and Carly was the fire that was waiting to ignite you and if that happened, you would both burn.

You pushed her away and you can still see it, the rejection in her eyes. And you rolled over and stared at the wall for the rest of the night, trying to steady the crashing muscle in your chest.

You're Sam Puckett. You've hurt people before. Even when you knew you were in love with Carly you would sometimes feel for other people. Your heart still aches when you remember what you did to Rachel, that poor girl. You were her everything and the threat of falling in love with her and making her the center of your stupid life was so terrifying that you abruptly told her not to call you anymore, to erase you from her life and she did.

She knew better. She knew you would burn her.

You curl into the pillow that Carly claimed as her own whenever she came over and you cry into it. You can't let Carly get close to you like that. Ever.

If you ever hurt Carly the way you hurt Rachel, you would never heal.

--

It's 3AM and you've smoked two joints by yourself already and your head hurts like a ton of bricks have been crashed upon it and you wonder just where your mother got this shitty pot from because this isn't the relaxing high you were looking for. This is a bottom-of-a-well low. You feel very, very low.

It's 3AM and you think it's a brilliant idea to call Rachel because you never got rid of her cell number as much as you tried to get yourself to delete it.

It's 3AM and you're pushing talk on Rachel's number and you can hear it ringing as if it's a hundred miles away.

"Hello?" She sounds alert, as if it isn't 3AM and it's normal to be up at this time and you know, you remember that Rachel was a night-owl and it hurts that you had all but forgotten.

"Rach?"

"Who is this?"

"It's ... its Sam."

There's silence and you don't know what you're doing and you think about hanging up but you're too high - too low - to think much so you just keep talking. "I know what you're thinking -" You didn't, but you say it anyway, "And I know you want to hang up on me but don't because I have something to ask you."

"I. Uhm. Well." You can hear clicking in the background and you remember that Rachel's a writer and you remember why she's up. She's probably writing something and it seems so familiar and it feels good to remember these things about her. "Sure, you can ask me, I guess."

"I hurt you, Rach." And you're blubbering like an idiot now and it feels strange crying over something that happened so long ago but you realize you never cried when it happened; you almost loved this girl and you broke it off without so much as an explanation and you never cried once. Now you're sobbing into the phone, clutching it with both hands. "And I wanted to know if our relationship was worth it."

Rachel is silent again and you remember some of the reasons you liked her so much; she was never as optimistic as Carly, never as bright as Carly, but close, and she always thought long and hard about something before she answered, as if she were rehearsing it in her head to make sure it was perfect. She wasn't as cute as Carly and she wasn't as good of a kisser as Carly was but she had been good enough and you never really thought that you would ever find someone good enough.

"You did hurt me," she says carefully, her voice soft as if she's talking to a crazy person and it almost makes you laugh when you start thinking that you really are a fucking nutcase. That, or high as all hell. "When you broke up with me out of nowhere, I was confused and hurt and lost for a long time. It's been what - nine months? Ten? And yeah, I don't feel the same way now, but I think I loved you then." You can hear her swallowing into the phone. "But yes, Sam. It was worth it."

You're crying hard now, curling your fingers into the sheets. "Thank you, Rachel."

"And Sam?"

"What?"

"Don't make the same mistake with someone else, okay?"

Sniffling, you simply close the phone, because you're still not sure. You could still be hydrogen.

--

You don't leave your room all of Friday and most of Saturday, you just lock yourself in and smoke weed and watch shitty soap operas and eat a box and a half of Fruit Loops. You wonder just when you became hydrogen and why you feel you can't ever be loved by another person. You start laughing because it seems like you're on some inner soul quest but your laughter dies when you remember Carly. You're doing this for Carly.

You've wanted to be with her so bad, ever since the first time you saw her in a bikini and you started feeling things in weird places. And then it was more than just her body; she was the ying to your yang and that felt right, that felt good. You two were always the touchy feely friends and when she melted into your arms at night and told you she loved you you thought that there couldn't be anything more right in the world than Carly Shay. Like your arms were built specifically for her to cradle herself in them.

And you keep denying her that right.

You wonder if it's because your dad left, or because your mother doesn't give two shits about you. You assume it has to have something to do with them - kids aren't afraid of loving or being loved for no reason. But Carly's mom died and she's been living with just Spencer for years and she's fine. It's her ability to overcome those obstacles. You, on the other hand, allow them to drag you down.

Saturday night. You've run out of pot. So instead you jump onto your grunting computer and pull up the agonizingly slow internet. In a matter of seconds, Carly has IMed you.

**CarlsShayShay** says: Hey. Can I call you?

You stare at it for a while. You knew she would IM you the second you got online, so you don't really know what you trying to escape from by hopping on here. Subconsciously, you must have wanted to talk to her.

**SamLikesHam69** says: Idk

You bite your lip at the screen when she doesn't answer right away and you feel stupid, like there are a billion other things you should be saying but you're too afraid to try and find the words.

**CarlsShayShay** says: Sam ... I miss u.

**SamLikesHam69 **says: I miss u 2, cupcake.

**CarlsShayShay **says: When r u getting out of this funk?

**SamLikesHam69 **says: Idk

**CarlsShayShay **says: Is it bcuz I kissed u? I wont do that anymore if u don't want me 2.

**SamLikesHam69 **says: Im scared, carls

**CarlsShayShay **says: Of what?

You stare at the question for a long time. What are you afraid of? Of getting hurt, or hurting her? Exploding and burning her or yourself? What is it that you're so scared of?

You snake your phone out of your pocket and Carly is your second speed dial in a matter of seconds a few buttons you can hear the phone ringing and it only takes it once for Carly to answer on the other end.

"Hello?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you. I'm afraid you're going to hurt me," you say and you just keep going before she can talk again, pacing the length of your room. "Remember Rachel? I hurt her and by doing that I hurt myself and I don't know why I did it, because I was afraid of falling in love with her and the scary thing is is that I'm _already _in love with you, Carls, and I feel like I could just explode any minute and destroy both of us."

"Sam, hold on two seconds." You can hear the sound of keys sliding across a counter. "I'm coming over."

--

Twenty minutes and a handful of anxious tears later, Carly is sweeping into your bedroom. It's dark out and it's late, nearly midnight, but here she is and without a moment's hesitation she's curling into your open arms and you're crying into her shirt.

"Don't be scared, Sam."

But you are scared, you're scared that you're hydrogen and she's fire. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want to hurt you either." Her warm hands are wiping your tears away and you can smell her, sweet, sweet Carly. Fruit. "But isn't that the thing? Having the ability to hurt someone, but trusting them not to?"

"What if it just happens? What if it's beyond your control? What if it's not a choice?"

"It's always a choice. Everything is a choice. Sam, I." She swallows hard and jerks your eyes to meet hers and there it is, the fire that could ignite both of you licking in her dark eyes. "I want to be with you."

"I could hurt you," you say lamely and it hurts, everything hurts as if you're already on fire.

"I'm willing to take that risk, Sam." She smiles, and it's tired but so beautiful and you think it's amazing how someone is willing to risk crumpling into ashes just to be with you. You wonder if you're worth it.

And then you decide that if Carly deems something worth it, then it must be, because Carly isn't wrong about things like that and maybe, maybe you just have to trust her on this one. Maybe she's the hydrogen and you just have to trust that your trust, your lit match, won't scar you both.

And then your hands are wrapping around Carly's neck and pulling her close to you and kissing her, kissing her the way you should have a few weeks ago and your body is hot and hers is growing so warm next to yours that it's like you're one growing flame.

If this is what exploding feels like, maybe it's not so bad being hydrogen.

--

"Are you ready?"

Monday morning. You and Carly are standing just outside of the school, watching children file into the double doors. You turn your head toward her as she speaks because it's just instinct to try and catch every syllable that leaves that mouth. Finally your eyes shift to her too and she's watching you with the smallest little smile. You nod.

"How do you feel about it?" She jerks her head toward the school. "First day. In public. With me."

"I don't care about them, Cupcake. The important part is that I'm _with __**you**_," you say and snag her hand. And then a smirk is crawling upon your lips and it feels easy and natural and it's almost like your signature, dancing on your face. "We're on fire, baby."

With a laugh, Carly leans forward and presses a kiss that smells like peaches on your lips. "Let it burn."

--

[**AN: **I do not own iCarly. I hope you enjoyed the fic!]


End file.
